Faren til den dømte voldtektsmannen Brock Allen Turner skrev nylig et rørende innlegg om hva voldtekten hadde gjort med hans sønn. Han har mistet appetitten, og klarer ikke lenger å spise favorittmiddagen entrecote. Han har problemer med å sove, og er ikke sitt lykkelige jeg lenger. Livet hans blir aldri det han har drømt om og jobbet så hardt med å oppnå. I stedt for å være en verdifull bidragsyter til samfunnet, må voldtektsmannen nå registrere seg som nettopp det - og sone seks måneder i fengsel. Det er en høy pris å betale for "20 minutes of action". Det er som å høre norske voldtektsapologeter som mener det er forskjell på voldtekt og "å bare ta seg til rette".
Blogginnlegg: Han tok seg bare til rette
Den som ble utsatt for i hvert fall 20 minutter med "action", nemlig voldtektsofferet, ble funnet bevisstløs bak noen søplebøtter i en bakgate. Eller offer og offer. Hun hadde drukket for mye, klina med voldtektsmannen og danset med han. Et helt tydelig ønske om å få klærne revet av i en bakgate, bli penetrert så hardt at hun får blåmerker og skrubbsår, samt bli forlatt bevisstløs avkledd nedentil og med bh'en hengende løs, der altså. Noen tror at voldtekt handler om å angre på sex. Da må man jo også tro at dette er måten kvinner synes det er greit å bli behandlet på. Selv når jeg vil ha sex, ønsker jeg ikke å få blåmerker og skrubbsår. Har skrevet det før, og gjentar gjerne - hvis du har problemer med å skille mellom en villig og bevisst sexpartner, og en som ikke klarer å gjøre motstand, så må du selv slutte og drikke og ligge unna kvinner.
Her er et utdrag av hva "20 minutes of action" føltes for offeret:
"The next thing I remember I was in a gurney in a hallway. I had dried blood and bandages on the backs of my hands and elbow. I thought maybe I had fallen and was in an admin office on campus. I was very calm and wondering where my sister was. A deputy explained I had been assaulted. I still remained calm, assured he was speaking to the wrong person. I knew no one at this party.
When I was finally allowed to use the restroom, I pulled down the hospital pants they had given me, went to pull down my underwear, and felt nothing. I still remember the feeling of my hands touching my skin and grabbing nothing. I looked down and there was nothing. The thin piece of fabric, the only thing between my vagina and anything else, was missing and everything inside me was silenced. I still don’t have words for that feeling.
In order to keep breathing, I thought maybe the policemen used scissors to cut them off for evidence. Then, I felt pine needles scratching the back of my neck and started pulling them out my hair. I thought maybe, the pine needles had fallen from a tree onto my head. My brain was talking my gut into not collapsing. Because my gut was saying, help me, help me.
I had multiple swabs inserted into my vagina and anus, needles for shots, pills, had a Nikon pointed right into my spread legs. I had long, pointed beaks inside me and had my vagina smeared with cold, blue paint to check for abrasions.I shuffled from room to room with a blanket wrapped around me, pine needles trailing behind me, I left a little pile in every room I sat in. I was asked to sign papers that said “Rape Victim” and I thought something has really happened. My clothes were confiscated and I stood naked while the nurses held a ruler to various abrasions on my body and photographed them. The three of us worked to comb the pine needles out of my hair, six hands to fill one paper bag. To calm me down, they said it’s just the flora and fauna, flora and fauna. I had multiple swabs inserted into my vagina and anus, needles for shots, pills, had a Nikon pointed right into my spread legs. I had long, pointed beaks inside me and had my vagina smeared with cold, blue paint to check for abrasions.
After a few hours of this, they let me shower. I stood there examining my body beneath the stream of water and decided, I don’t want my body anymore. I was terrified of it, I didn’t know what had been in it, if it had been contaminated, who had touched it. I wanted to take off my body like a jacket and leave it at the hospital with everything else."
20 minutter og resten av hennes liv. Er ikke det verdt seks måneder for gjerningsmannen?